to hold love close, like gravity
by bravestofheart
Summary: she calls it another way of living— and you? you've never felt more alive. bill x heather.
1. Chapter 1

i.

 **aphelion** | _the point in the orbit of a planet, asteroid, or comet at which it is farthest from the sun_

gravity has a way

of pulling you in

beautiful, enticing

seemingly perfect

something feels missing when gravity leaves

her eyes were galaxies; infinite, wondrous

but space without her is vast and aching

beauty marred by loneliness, longing

time slowed when your eyes first met

you think that the stars aligned

that her touch was electric

you yearn for that pull; it felt like fate

you understand why people run

always searching for something more

and you understand love;

never more terrifying than when it's gone

nothing aches as much as the chasm of separation

and she? oh, she was a force of gravitation

—

It's strange how time all of a sudden slows. Like in the moment two pairs of eyes meet across a room, something intangible but almost electric hanging in the air, like an invisible rope, drawing the two together… perhaps that's how fate works. Inevitable, no matter what you do. But looking back, that makes everything all the more tragic, if fate pulled them together only to tear them apart. It felt like she'd known Heather a lifetime. And it felt like in barely a blink, she was gone. Oh, how time flew— and then it stopped. And she no longer understands why she never noticed how _slow_ it passes.

She keeps a brave face, cheerful wit and curiosity bubbling over when she sees him - for how can she not? There's wonders out there and she never imagined that _she,_ just Bill, could possibly be so fortunate to see and do more, to travel (in space! who'd have thought?), to be something more than _ordinary_. And she can't help but feel selfish, wanting more, and yet her heart pines, mourns. Some days she feels like she lost more than a lover; perhaps she's mourning the future that could have been.

There's a certain type of numbness that finds a home in her heart, nestled away where she forgets about it, pushes on, lets herself be swept up and distracted by the world around her. But oh, how it likes to rear its head at night, hollow her out as she curls up, enveloping herself in her blankets and wondering if she's always been this empty. It gets better with time; as heartache and loss always does, but it remains there, hungry for those moments of weakness, instability.

She never lets him see how her heart aches, and yet there's a mutual understanding between them, an unspoken connection. And there's moments where she catches glimpses of all the hurt his hearts hold, but she doesn't ask… she did once, when her wounds were still raw and she saw how he closed off. No, they don't talk. But they understand, and maybe that's enough.

* * *

 **A/N:** Part two coming soon! If you want a sneak peek into the second part, feel free to pop over to my tumblr for the second poem. I wrote the poems a while back - but I thought it'd be fun to expand on them a bit more. Let me know your opinions! Do you like the poem-fic combo? Or are you team 'please don't put poetry anywhere near my fic thanks'?

Also! I'm currently writing fic updates/short stories etc. in an attempt to complete NaNoWriMo - so feel free to hit me up with suggestions, prompts, anything you'd like to see! Or just yell at me to write, that'd also be appreciated :)


	2. Chapter 2

ii.

 **perihelion** | _the point in the orbit of a planet, asteroid, or comet at which it is closest to the sun_

hope creeps in

with empty promises

teasing, fleeting

then gone again

hope feels like a distant dream

for younger souls, full of light

you think it'd be kinder to let go—

there's nothing left for you anymore

reunion could not be more sweet

than now, your heart lifted

from seemingly endless depths

maybe today, the universe is kind

she draws you in again

ever familiar and still as beautiful

her lips tender, delicate

the sweetest invitation; this time, you accept

she calls it another way of living—

and you? you've never felt more alive

—

This is it. Really, there's nowhere lower to sink than here, in a war zone, being hunted by an army of Cybermen and knowing their chances of escaping are near zero. Add to that the mess of her having been turned into a Cyberman… things aren't looking up for her. She supposes the one silver lining is that it makes the choice to stay by his side and essentially sacrifice herself easy. And it's nice - that despite how she's literally been turned into a monster, that she'll go out fighting. That she'll die for a purpose, and die with her soul and spirit intact, even if her body has been taken from her.

Don't get her wrong; she's bloody terrified to be facing death, despite it all.

But then somehow it's all over, and she's still standing. It's just her and an unnerving quiet that's fallen, just the sound of rubble crunching under heavy, metallic footsteps, and the soft, hissing crackles of the occasional lingering fire. And then there's him; the last one who could possibly understand, who knows who she is beneath this metal casing, her last scrap of hope that maybe she can still be someone. And he's lying there, so still - she reaches down to touch him and can't help but flinch at how still he is, and she weeps. Weeps for her friend and her loss, emotion choking up in her throat, raw and human and _scared._ Scared that she's alone like this, stuck in a purgatory between human and monster, alive and robotic; because of course she'd draw the short straw, they didn't even bloody manage to properly turn her into a robot… after it all, her tears are still there. Still real.

It's not until she notices the puddle forming in front of her, too quickly to be from the rain that she's been too numb to even notice, that she realises those tears never were her own.

—

There's a soft, metallic thud as her body - or her metal shell, rather - falls away from her, and suddenly the world shifts, and it's as if she's in some sort of dream. The world around her doesn't feel the same anymore, as if she's looking at it through an outsider's eyes.

"Am I dead?" Bill asks, eyes drifting back to meet her gaze; in all of this, Heather seems like the only solid, _real_ thing, there's a certain sharpness and clarity to her that everything else lacks, and _oh—_ an unexpected warmth when Heather's lips press to hers. She melts into her, relishes in the way that her heart flutters, and the way that time stops for them again… if this is what death is like, she'll take it any day.

"Does that feel dead to you? You're like me now. It's just a different kind of living."

There's water streaming from her hands but it doesn't alarm her. No, there's something calm about it, like this is how things are meant to be. "How did you find me?" Out here, in this wasteland, at the end of all hope.

"I left you my tears, remember?"


End file.
